


Driving a Hard Bargain

by Ammeh



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aphrodisiacs, Contracts, Demon Deals, Demon Summoning, Despite some of the tags the tone is mostly "smutty supernatural romcom", F/M, Sex Used as Payment, Tail Sex, Weird Demon Dicks, belly bulge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27315775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ammeh/pseuds/Ammeh
Summary: Lysithea decides to make a deal with a demon to ensure her parents will be taken care of.He's not really what she expected.
Relationships: Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 12
Kudos: 97
Collections: FE3H Monsterfucking Weekend 2020





	Driving a Hard Bargain

**Author's Note:**

> This might be the filthiest thing I've ever written, whoops.
> 
> Special thanks to my Weird Dick muse.

Balthus would never make it in the contract business.

He’s too soft, too straightforward, and too bad at playing nice with dickwads. Honestly, the only reason Hell hasn’t eaten him alive by now is that he’s kind of a badass. 

Nah, the contract business is for people like Yuri. People who are clever, and cunning, and either heartless, or good at keeping their acts of mercy out of their reputation.

Yuri’s in the second group. Which is why Balthus still does contracts occasionally. And probably why Yuri just called him in.

“I’ve got another one for you,” Yuri says. He’s got a summoning beacon floating over his hand—still forming as the summoner completes the ritual to create a portal. Balthus can’t get a read on it, but if Yuri’s sending him, the desires radiating off it are of the naïve, earnest, easy-to-take-advantage-of sort. Whoever this sorry sod is, they’re lucky their summoning got caught by Yuri and not someone else.

“Yeah?” He rolls his shoulders in anticipation, watching as the beacon gets brighter. “All right, I’ve got this. Hit me.”

Yuri sighs. “Just touch it, Balthus.” So _maybe_ one time they got a little too into horseplay and Yuri ended up getting yanked through a beacon he was trying to pawn off. And maybe he practically tied himself into knots trying to come up with a soft deal that looked rougher than it was (unlike Balthus, who can coast on the fact someone with his background is pulling in contracts at all). Doesn’t mean he has to be such a stickler about not throwing them around. 

Still, Balthus knows when to argue. He sinks his hand into the beacon, and the world lights up as he’s sucked across.

\--

He’s used to being summoned into dingy basements and abandoned parking lots, but this room looks...good. Bedroom, tidy, kinda girly. 

The summoner is cute. 

Early twenties maybe, pretty in a sharp sort of way, barely comes up to his chest in her stocking feet. She’s more dolled up than people usually are for their first summoning session, thigh-highs and a flared dress with fancy clips in her hair, but she’s got that slack “it actually worked?” expression, so she’s gotta be a newbie. Her fists are balled nervously in her skirt as she looks him up and down—he knows he’s kind of intimidating, between the height and the horns—but she still juts her chin out defiantly and meets his gaze.

“I would like to make a contract,” she says.

Thank fuck, she didn’t have one of those books that would have directed her to start out with the whole “you are bound to my bidding, demon!” song and dance. Working past that is always a pain.

“Cool,” he says. “I’m Balthus.”

She nods slowly, eyes darting between his feathered wings and his tail. “Lysithea,” she says. “I—are you a fallen angel, or a demon?” 

He shrugs. “Not much difference after a few centuries, honestly. But yeah, I fell. Don’t worry, I can still do contracts, though.”

“I knew _that_ , I just—” she clears her throat. “Err, good. As I said, I’d like to make one.”

He’s not exactly an expert at reading mortals, but even he can tell at a glance that she’s dying. Slowly, but a lot faster than a mortal her age should be. 

“I’m guessing I already know what you want. A cure, yeah? I can do it, but it’ll cost ya.”

She crosses her arms and frowns. “No, I _don’t_ want to sell my eternal soul for another fifty years. I was interested in a smaller contract.”

Smart, but he can’t help but feel a little insulted. “Jeez, I’d give you at least 100. But I’m listening.”

“Very well. As you’ve apparently surmised, I’m very ill. My parents have used up most of their life savings taking me around the world for experimental treatments. At this point even if I refuse further treatment, when I die they’ll be deep in debt. I want to be sure they’ll be taken care of.”

Usually the people Yuri sends him to deal with are pretty far into the desperation phase, but she’s calm, matter of fact, like it’s a bit of an inconvenience to be explaining all this. He likes a woman with that kind of gumption.

“Your parents, huh? Tell me about them. They have good jobs, or is that part of what you need?”

“They’re professors. They met through their research, so they work in the same field, and their department is at risk of shutting down. After all the leave they’ve taken for my sake they’ll have a hard time getting hired at a comparable university. It’s been too long since they’ve published.”

As she talks, Balthus mentally rifles through her parents’ financial situation. It’s not great, but he’s used to dealing with debt, and it doesn’t seem quite as dire as she’s made it out. “So, do you want them living in luxury? Early retirement? Tell me what you’re looking for here.” 

“I want them to be able to retire before they’re 80 and maintain the standard of living they had before I fell ill for the rest of their lifespan. Their _natural_ lifespan,” she adds threateningly. “I’ve calculated it out and based on my past medical expenses, three years of my life force should be enough to cover that if I switch to only palliative treatment. That’s still not a trivial expense, but conveniently the more I pay _you_ , the less of it I’ll need. The doctors claim I have about five years left, but I’m willing to discuss other payment options to cover any deficit. I want you to leave me with at least 12 months.”

Oof. Yeah, he can see why Yuri sent him on this one. “Whoah now. You’re undervaluing your life force there, little lady. Your parents are still in a pretty good spot. They own their house, they're still young and healthy, their research was generating some buzz before it went on hiatus—honestly, they shouldn't need _that_ much extra help if they push out their retirement a few years. Maybe rent a room out. Downsizing's always an option too.”

“Are you here to make a contract, or give me financial advice?”

“Sorry. Anyway, my point is that with the right kick, your parents should be able to do most of this on their own. I don’t want you to be overpaying, here.”

She looks at him suspiciously. “I’m fairly certain you’re not supposed to be trying to downsell me, but all right. What would be an appropriate payment?”

“For a couple lucky breaks to get them back on track? That’s more in the realm of an unspecified favor, your virginity, your most treasured possession, that sort of thing.”

“No unspecified favors,” she says immediately. 

Nobody ever bites on that one. Maybe he needs to work on his phrasing.

“As for the... _other things_ you listed—” Her cheeks are pink. “What can you even do with things like that?” 

He catches her eyes flicking over to a worn doll on her dresser.

“Doesn’t really matter what I can do with it, it’s about what it’s worth to you.” 

She looks down at where his happy trail disappears into his pants. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “And what if my virginity isn’t worth much to me?”

Hot damn. “That one’s basically tradition at this point. Still valid.”

“So...to clarify, I could pay you with something that’s essentially meaningless to me, as long as the concept has historically been meaningful to others?”

“It’s a metaphysical currency thing. I can’t really explain it, mostly because I don’t understand it all that great myself.”

She walks slowly around the perimeter of the summoning circle, looking him up and down like she’s inspecting a steed for purchase. It’s kind of doing it for him. “And supposing I _did_ agree to sign away my virginity for this... How would I pay, exactly?”

“Normally you’d fuck whoever you made the contract with. But if you wanted to go that route and I’m not your type, we could find someone else.” He really hopes he’s her type. 

“No! No, that would be fine. _You_ would be fine, I mean.”

“Good.” He grins at her. “Any more questions?”

“Yes, actually. Is the process intended to be pleasant?”

“I’d try to make it good for you, yeah. I mean, my dick’s kind of big, so it might be a little rough at first, but once we got you stretched out, you’d be in for a fun time.”

She clears her throat, cheeks flaming. “That...seems amenable.”

As much as he’s _really_ liking where this is going, he should probably make sure... “Before you commit, I just want to check—you know my list was just examples, yeah? We can brainstorm some more if you want.”

She puts a hand on her hip, voice abruptly going from husky to sharp. “I’m starting to wonder about your qualifications. You’re supposed to be trying to trick me into an unfair deal, but instead you seem intent on ensuring I’m inconvenienced as little as possible. Are you always like this? In due honesty, it’s not really inspiring confidence in your ability to carry out your side of the terms.”

He laughs. “I might not be a model for demonic conduct, but when it comes to raw power, I’m one of the best in the business. As for the contract being too fair—don’t worry about it too much, yeah? We might not be the nicest bunch out there, but we’re still capable of feeling bad about shit. We’ve gotta live with ourselves just like everybody else.”

“I see.” She twists a lock of hair around her finger. “Well, I don’t think we need to brainstorm yet. So far I’m _quite_ satisfied with the option we’re discussing. But I do have a few more questions.”

“Shoot.”

“There would be no risk of lingering physical or spiritual consequences to me, correct?” 

“Like, what damnation? Pregnancy? Waking up with horns? Nah. Nothing besides the usual...” He makes a loop with his fingers and shoves his fist through it. “Uh, I mean, if you’re not already practicing.”

She clears her throat, blushing. “And...would I pay immediately? We’re on opposite sides of a summoning circle.”

“As soon as the contract’s signed, I can enter your world to fulfil it. You can take some time if you want. But I wouldn’t hold off too long—the consequences for an unpaid contract aren’t pretty. If you die or hook up with someone before you’ve paid, it’s your soul on the table again.”

“I’d prefer to pay immediately. Even if the odds that I die in the next few days are miniscule, waiting would frankly do the opposite of set my mind at ease.”

She grills him for several more minutes before finally nodding in satisfaction. “Very well. I’m happy with this proposal.”

“All right then. Let’s get this baby drawn up.” He holds out his palm for the contract from Yuri to materialize in a flash of flame. The parchment unfurls in midair and floats to the very edge of the summoning ring, the signature line pulsing menacingly. 

They’ve tried toning down the intimidation factor before, but it turns out that the things that unnerve mortals about demonic contracts are the same things that make them believe they’re legit. People don’t believe that wealth and fame are really coming when you ask them to sign their soul away on a typewritten stack of legal paper.

Lysithea steps closer to read through it. “This is impressively written,” she says when she gets to the bottom, finger tapping her lips. She reads through it a few more times. “I can’t find any loopholes.”

Yuri’s damn good at concealing his loopholes, but he also reserves them for the dickbags, so Balthus is pretty sure she’s right. “Terms seem good?”

“The terms seem quite acceptable.” She makes a pleased noise that goes straight to his dick. “Do I sign first?”

“Yep,” he says, and holds out his hand to summon a quill, but she’s already turned around and is fishing through a cup of pens on her small desk. 

She tests and discards three with frustrated noises before she returns, black ballpoint in hand. Her hand trembles as her fingers near the glow that shoots up from the edges of the summoning circle, but she holds it steady enough to scrawl out _Lysithea von Ordelia_ along the line.

He pulls the parchment back and taps his finger to the bottom, and his signature shoots out from the point of contact. 

It’s sealed. He can feel himself settling more fully into this world, fuzzy edges solidifying. He furls the contract up and banishes it back to Yuri’s desk. 

Lysithea frowns. “Don’t I get a copy?”

“Uh...not traditionally, but I guess if you want one. Just don’t show it around, yeah?” He gives Yuri, who probably just tuned out, a little mental kick.

Her phone buzzes on the desk.

She ignores it, and keeps looking at him expectantly.

“That was probably your copy.” 

She picks it up, taps for a minute, and raises an eyebrow. “A PDF? I was expecting a hard copy.”

“That contract counts as a demonic artifact, little lady, nobody gets those unless they make a contract for ‘em. One’s magical, the other looks photoshopped.”

“Increasing the price of a contract so you can get a copy of said contract to verify you’re not getting overcharged seems self-defeating.” 

“Yeah, that’s probably why copies never became standard. Uh, that and the fact that we’re usually trying to screw you over, so we don’t really want you reviewing the wording in detail.”

She sets her phone down and gives him a piercing look. “Have _you_ screwed people over?”

“I’ve let people sign themselves into shit I was pretty sure they’d regret, but nah, screwing people over’s not really my field. I’m a cards on the table kind of guy. Former angels get a little more leeway there, so I don’t get too much shit for it.”

“Right. That makes sense.” She tugs at the hem of her skirt, lips parted. “Well then...I suppose I do need to pay you...” 

He grins. “Ready to get this party started?” 

She must know that the circle’s not holding him anymore, but she still gasps when he unfurls his wings, flaring them out behind him in an intimidating sweep that he perfected long before he fell.

He’s aware as he steps over the perimeter of the circle that he looks kind of menacing, but even as halfassed as his demonic side can get, it’s not about to let her forget what she just agreed to let fuck her.

She gulps, her face tilting higher and higher to hold his gaze as he approaches. Her breath is speeding up, but she doesn’t back away.

He stops, very much in her space. Her head doesn’t even come up to the top of his sternum. 

Her tongue slips out to lick her lips.

“This isn’t going to be your first kiss, is it?”

She puffs up indignantly, or as indignantly as she can with red cheeks and blown pupils. “Do I look like a _child_? Yes, I’ve kissed someone! With my hand up her shirt, even!”

“Good to know,” he says, and picks her up.

She scrambles for a hold on him, and her skirt hikes up as she wraps her thighs around his waist.

Before he knows it he’s got her dress half-unzipped and her tongue licking into his mouth, hands roaming over him as they explore everything she can reach from his pecs to the points of his ears. He hasn’t done this type of contract in over fifty years, and he knows people change with the times, but he’s pretty sure this level of zeal is a _her_ thing. 

It’s honestly kinda difficult to untangle her so he can set her on the ground to push her dress down, but he manages. Her underwear are trimmed in red ribbon, with a kitty pattern on the fabric.

“Cute panties,” he says.

She crosses her arms in front of her chest with a frown. “Look, I didn’t expect to be getting naked in front of anyone today!”

“No, I’m serious. Cute panties.” He hooks a finger down the front. “I like the bow.”

“Oh.” She relaxes her arms, embarrassed but pleased. “Sorry, I can be a _bit_ sensitive to people treating me like a child. And I—” she breaks off into a gasp as he slides his finger deeper, his knuckles brushing against her curls.

“Is—this where you tell me they’d look cuter on the floor?”

“I wasn’t gonna use a line that bad, but now that you mention it…” He tugs down. 

Either her hair color is natural, or her bleach job is very thorough. Whichever it is, it’s a good look on her. He reaches for her bra next, but she stops him with a hand on his wrist. 

“It’s hardly fair for me to get all the way naked before you’ve removed a single article of clothing,” she says, reaching for the fastenings of his pants. “Even if you did start without a shirt.”

“Sure thing,” he says, thrusting his hips forward to give her better access. 

“Your pants are frankly _obscenely_ low,” she says, tugging at them. “You wouldn’t need these extra straps if you’d just wear them a bit higher.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but then I’d need a hole for my tail, and that’d just look dumb.”

She giggles—and then she gets his fly open, and jerks her hands away like she’s been burned. “You’re not wearing underwear!”

“Nope.” He shoves his pants down and kicks them off to the side.

Her mouth falls open.

“That big, huh?” He puts his hands on his hips to better frame it.

She blinks a couple times before responding. “It’s...I didn’t think it would be—are those _glowing pearls_ under the skin _?_ ”

Oh. Right. The leaking phosphorescent bumps were a post-fall addition.

“Came with the horns. Not entirely sure how they work, but I’ve been told they feel pretty awesome. And whatever they leak is kind of a kickstarter.” 

“I see…” Transfixed, she reaches out until her fingertip just brushes one of the bumps. “How is it supposed to _fit._..oh!” She jerks back in surprise as a fat drip of glowing fluid oozes from the bead she just brushed.

As if dick-fluids have abruptly jogged her memory, she looks up at him suspiciously. “You can’t get me pregnant, can you?”

“I mean, I _could_ , but—” he waves his hand in front of his balls and wills them to chill out in that regard for a day or so. “I won’t.”

“Right. I suppose we already covered that, didn’t we.” 

“We covered a lot. I don’t blame you for needing some repeats. It’s usually a lot for mortals to take in.”

As he’s talking, she reaches behind herself and unfastens her bra—but when he gets to “mortals,” she pauses with a little shiver. Not like he reminded her of something bad, more like she’s into the idea he isn’t. Good to know.

She pulls off her bra and tosses it to the side. Nothing but thigh-highs is a good look for her.

“Cute tits.”

“I know they’re not very big, but you—” she cuts off. “Oh. You’re serious again, aren’t you.”

“Very.” He pulls her towards him with a hand on her shoulder. She’s short enough that her tits brush the head of his dick when she steps closer. Fuck.

She inhales sharply, hands jumping to his chest. “While attractive, this height difference honestly seems a bit inconvenient for...” she trails off, running her hands down his abdomen. “...Wow.”

He laughs. “I don’t know. Makes you easy to pick up.” He demonstrates, and even though he did it not that long ago, her eyes go wide.

Her legs flail for a grip around his waist again, but this time it presses her little pink slit up against the base of his dick.

She gasps, open-mouthed, and rocks against him. Her cunt slides against the shaft of his cock, the head leaves a smear of glowing fluid along her abdomen. She’s going to get herself absolutely covered in it like that. _Fuck_. 

“I did say that was an aphrodisiac, right?” he asks, even as he grabs her ass with both hands to help her slide herself up and down along his cock.

“I—” she bucks forward again, moaning a little. “Right. Mucous membranes.” She grabs his shoulders and strains to lift herself up, dragging her clit along the slick bumps. “This...feels quite good, though. You should kiss me again.”

He has to hunch over to do it without pulling her off his cock, but he obliges. She grabs him by the horns, dragging him in towards her face.

As his special juice kicks in, her humping gets more frantic, until she breaks the kiss in favor of sliding her body along the length of his cock. The head’s dripping onto her abdomen, leaving glowing trails through her pubes, and between the two of them her little pussy’s getting wetter and wetter as it grinds into him. 

He helps, pulling her down until her ass hits his balls and then sliding her body up along his cock until the head’s rubbing her clit.

Her cheeks are red, her mouth hanging open, and every second he’s not sliding her along his cock she keeps grinding forward into it. It’s rubbing his slime into every crevice of her slit, she’s going to be dosed up to the gills before they even get his cock in. 

Abruptly, her legs tighten around him, and she bucks forward hard with a loud moan. A fresh surge of wetness trickles down his cock as her sock-covered heels dig into his ass.

“I’m ready,” she gasps. “Give it to me.”

He laughs sharply. “No you’re not.” Tilting her hips to expose her pussy, he shifts his grip on her ass so he can slide his fingers into her hole. The first two go in smoothly, but the third hits some resistance. “You got a toy or something?”

“Bedside drawer,” she pants, squirming forward to grind her clit against him again. 

“Fuck yourself with that for me,” he says, setting her back on her feet and giving her a pat on the ass.

For a moment she looks like she wants to take offense, but horniness wins out, and she stumbles over to the bed, falling onto it before reaching over to fumble blindly in the nightstand drawer. 

With a triumphant noise, she pulls out a bullet vibe and a bright purple dildo. It’s maybe half the size of his dick, but probably good enough to loosen her up. 

She spreads her legs and lines it up. Her cunt is fucking _glowing_ from how much she rubbed it over him, and his cock jerks at the sight. 

She’s too keyed up to hesitate, just shoves the dildo right in, grabbing for the vibe the second the handle’s flush with her body. As soon as the bullet’s rumbling over her clit she starts fucking herself with the dildo like she’s desperate.

To be fair, she probably is. His dick-juice doesn’t really fuck around.

He watches her, stroking himself lazily as she rams the dildo into her cunt like her life depends on it. In only a couple minutes her body arches and shudders, but she keeps going, twisting the dildo inside her and lifting her hips off the bed. She comes twice more before she turns off the vibe and sets everything on the nightstand.

“ _Now_ will you give it to me?”

He walks to the bed and feels her cunt. Three fingers go in easy now, and she’s dripping wet. “All right.”

The bed dips as he kneels between her legs. His wings flare out behind him as he grabs her hips and lifts them up, until only her shoulders are on the bed and the head of his cock is prodding at her pussy.

She swallows, a hint of anxiety breaking through the haze of lust in her eyes. It’s...yeah, it looks huge next to her.

He pushes forward. The very tip breeches her hole. For a minute it’s just that wet little kiss, his cock straining against her hole but not moving—but then her body gives, lets him work the whole head in. He can feel his cock drooling aphrodisiac fluid straight into her tight little pussy. If she was coming down from the short break, she’s not going to be for long. 

She’s wide-eyed, fingers digging into the sheets, mouth open in disbelief. “Feels—big as my _fist_ ,” she chokes out.

He looks down at her hands. They’re pretty tiny. “Yeah, probably close,” he says, and greedily pushes in another centimeter, until the first row of bumps is flush with her stretched hole. That’s wider than the head, so he’ll give her a minute. 

With her cunt stuffed full, Lysithea is honestly even cuter. Her teeth are worrying at her lip, her sweet little tits rising and falling with the deep breaths she’s taking to steady herself. Slowly, her white-knuckled grip on the sheets relaxes.

She promptly looks down between her legs and frowns. “You’ve still hardly given me any of it!”

“Ready already, huh?” He tries pressing forward, but her body doesn’t give. Thought so.

He was gonna just fuck her with the tip for a while, but if she wants to jump straight to it… He curls his tail around and swipes the tapered tip through the fluid that’s starting to drip from his cock again at the stimulation. Once it’s good and covered, he nudges it against her hole. 

She tenses up. “What are—” 

“It’ll make it easier. Trust me.” 

Once she relaxes again, Balthus squeezes the tip of his tail in alongside the head of his cock, until she’s stretched wide around it. 

“Are you sure...this is going to—”

All at once, he yanks his tail back and shoves forward, the first two rows of bumps cramming into her pussy before she has time to tense up. 

She gives a garbled cry that starts out painful and turns euphoric, her body arching. “Fu—” 

“See?” He pulls back until just the tip of the head is holding her open. His shaft’s leaking eagerly now, slick with its own fluid. Her cunt accepts him a little easier this time, deeper. He can see the flesh of her belly shift as he thrusts in until the third row of bumps pops past the rim of her hole. 

“F- _fuck,_ ” Lysithea pants, staring at where his cock is hanging out of her pussy. With a trembling hand, she reaches out and touches the slight bulge in her abdomen. “Ke-keep moving.”

She rests her palm flat on her stomach, letting out a disbelieving breath as he pulls out and shoves back in. “Fuck,” she repeats.

Her cunt’s clutching him possessively, trying to suck him back in when he withdraws. It feels fucking amazing. Even though he was expecting it, he’s almost sad when he bottoms out with only half his dick in. 

Each thrust has her pussy rippling around the four rows of bumps she was able to take. The noise is getting sloppy, the juices that aren’t getting fucked into her pussy squelching out into a puddle on the bed.

Lysithea’s starting to lose it again—gasping incoherently, bucking up into him trying to shove herself further on his dick. He’s holding her hips so she’s not having much luck, but then her legs hook behind his back and she shoves herself up _hard_. 

She works herself maybe another centimeter onto his dick. The head’s pushing hard against her cervix, and the noise she makes doesn’t sound happy, but she keeps pushing.

He pulls her down and gives her thigh a firm squeeze. “ _Careful_. Don’t hurt yourself on it.”

She kicks him in the ass with a frustrated growl. “It’s still only halfway in!”

“I hate to break it to you, little lady, but my cock is bigger than your pussy.” He tilts her hips high and pulls all the way out, to show her how much she’s taken.

“That—seems entirely excessive,” she says, way too critically for someone with a pussyful of aphrodisiac slime. 

Balthus chuckles. “Your pussy’s the golden standard by which all dicks should be measured, huh?” He plunges back in, the bulge in her stomach even more pronounced with the new angle. “I could maybe be convinced.”

Her noise is desperate. The angle must be good. 

He can’t take his eyes off the way her abdomen’s shifting, his cock pushing her insides out of the way as it makes room for itself again and again.

Given how loudly she screams when she comes, it’s a good thing her parents aren’t home.

He holds his hips still, waits her out, but her pussy’s barely finished trembling around him when she groans,

“ _More_.”

He starts thrusting again.

“No, give me _more_.” She sounds annoyed.

He grins. “Still not satisfied, huh?” He can’t give her any more of his dick like this, but…

He curls his thumb under her bum and prods at her asshole, soaking from everything that’s dripping out as he fucks her. 

Her gasp is startled, but she bucks down into the touch, hard enough that it slips inside almost to the first knuckle. 

“Yeah?”

“I said—mm— _more_ , didn’t I?” 

He fucks his thumb in and out of her ass a few times, a different sort of tight heat than the one he’s currently enjoying. She’s stuffed enough that it’s a cramped fit, that he doesn’t even need to press upwards to feel the individual bumps on his cock as they slide into her pussy.

“ _More_.”

Greedy little lady, isn’t she. He’s into it.

Balthus curls his tail around the base of his dick, smearing it slimy and bracing it. (See? The rest of his cock is still useful, not excessive at all.) His tail’s not quite as sensitive as his fingers, but he can still feel her asshole twitch when he presses the tip in alongside his thumb. 

It’s tapered, but it gets thicker fast, probably about the width of an average human cock by the time the tip is even with the back of her pussy. And this hole doesn’t dead end, so he can keep stuffing her, until her ass is spread wide.

“That enough for you?” 

Her inhalation is strained, but satisfied. “ _Yes_.”

He pulls back until she’s almost empty, and then stuffs both her ass and pussy full again in a single thrust.

Lysithea’s eyes roll back in her head and her body _spasms_. Her mouth opens, but she doesn’t scream, just lets out a high, thin noise as she shakes apart on his cock. 

This time he fucks her through it, driving in and out at a pace that has the headboard knocking into the wall. He doesn’t know if she comes again so much as never _stops,_ but she doesn’t get another word out, messy-faced and gasping as her pussy milks him in a continuous wave. She’s drooling a little.

She doesn’t seem to be, like, dying or anything, so he keeps going.

Eventually her gasps sound more like hiccups, her body limp and pliant as he ruts into her. She’s still coming but it’s in small trembles, her cunt fluttering weakly around him as it tries to clench down after being stretched out so long. Her ass is wet and open, taking his tail without resistance.

Pressure’s starting to build in his groin, the slick heat of her body feeling better and better with each thrust.

He groans, fingers flexing on her hips as he lets go. His balls seize up as his cock dumps load after load of cum into her cunt. It gushes out onto the bedspread, running down her ass and around his tail where it’s still shoved up her hole. Hopefully she has a waterproof mattress pad.

He pulls out slowly. Her holes gape for a moment and then contract, her pussy forcing out a thick gob of come and slime to join the mess below her. 

“How’re you feeling?”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she gets any sounds out. “...Holy fuck,” she finally rasps.

“Your contract is fully paid, by the way.”

“Are you sure?” she asks unsteadily. “Maybe you should...fuck me again. Just to make sure we did it right.”

“Not that I wouldn’t love to stick around, but you’re gonna need a break, little lady,” he says. “Also, I’m probably gonna get pulled back soon unless I find a way this somehow progresses my side of the deal in the next minute or two. Contract magic doesn’t fuck around.”

“Oh. That’s too bad,” she says. “Well. I suppose it’s good that demons can’t just run amok in our world as soon as they’re in a contract. But it’s too bad that means you can’t stay longer. Will I see you again?”

“Eh,” he says. “Maybe. It’s possible, at least. If not, sorry about the mess on your bedspread. Actually, even if I do see you again, sorry about the mess on your bedspread.”

She leans up on her elbows and looks down between her legs. “Oh. Huh. Wow.” She doesn’t look displeased.

His lack of business in this world is starting to pull at him, and he’s not sure how much longer he can stick around. “By the way,” he says. “I know you said you were giving up on treatment, but you might want to look up a ‘Dr. Hanneman von Essar.’”

“Huh?” She blinks, expression still fucked-out, but she’s with it enough to scramble for her phone to write it down. 

_And_ that’s when he gets yanked back. Hopefully she doesn’t have too much trouble with spelling. He doesn’t even know who the fuck the guy is, but the universe definitely thinks he’s relevant.

\--

Lysithea’s flying home from her third round of treatment, and feeling strangely...good.

 _Properly_ good. In a way she hasn’t felt in years. She supposes considering the supernatural source of the tip, she shouldn’t be that surprised, but it seems like Dr. Hanneman’s experimental treatment might be working.

She still hasn’t seen any progress on the contract, beyond the university postponing the decision on whether to shutter her parents’ department, but she’s trying not to worry about it. There’s still time, and some probably-foolish part of her trusts Balthus to make good on his side of the deal. Besides, if this treatment actually works, she’ll have time to help her parents on her own, and that alone will have been more than worth the price of the contract.

...Honestly, _paying_ was worth the price of the contract. It’s been ten months and she’s still spending a frankly embarrassing amount of time with her newly expanded sex toy collection. Nothing has quite scratched the itch. She suspects her sex life might have peaked with its commencement, and the thought would be sadder if she’d expected to _have one_.

Sometimes her recollections start to wander beyond the sex, though, to the way he stood, or talked, or how disarmingly _enjoyable_ it was to converse with him. She shuts those thoughts down before they can sprout. She’s got quite enough to deal with without developing a fruitless crush on a demon.

Her mother greets her in the airport lobby, full of barely contained excitement. She sweeps Lysithea into a hug that lifts her off her feet, exclaiming “ _We got a major grant!_ ” as she spins her around.

“You did? That’s great!” Lysithea holds an arm out to steady herself. “I didn’t realize you’d even applied for any.” 

“Some big sponsor caught word of the research your father and I were working on, somehow,” her mother says, shaking her head. “We haven’t gotten anything new out in years so I’m still not sure how we stumbled into this kind of dumb luck, but they’re _very_ interested the continuation of what we were doing. Enough that they’re potentially willing to fund the department for the next several years.”

“That’s wonderful news!” And suspiciously serendipitous.

Her mother steals her luggage and starts walking towards the parking area, filling her in on the details.

“—Speaking of, feel free to skip if you’re tired, but we’re meeting our prospective sponsor and one of his associates for dinner to discuss our research goals. When I mentioned our daughter was returning tonight after a month away from home, they invited you along.”

“I’m interested,” she says immediately. As if she’s going to pass up the opportunity to get a closer look at what might be her contract in action.

“Sounds good. Make sure to wear something nice, the place they’re taking us is a bit fancy.” Her mother puts her luggage in the trunk. “Now, how was the latest round of treatment?”

She’s been sending regular updates, so she doesn’t have much new to share, but that doesn’t exempt her from being grilled on every detail of her treatment and every conversation she had with Dr. Hanneman and his intern. Twice, since her father has all the same questions when he gets home. It’s a relief when she can beg off to go get ready for dinner.

They weren’t joking, the restaurant is quite nice. Clearly this sponsor has the means to deliver what he’s dangling. 

The host—no, she supposes he’s probably a maitre d’—brings them to the table. The sponsor is a reedy fellow in his sixties, with an expensive-looking but crookedly donned suit, and he seems genuinely excited when he welcomes her parents to the table. 

She’s not sure what she was expecting, but she’s caught off guard by how... _normal_ he seems. Part of her is strangely disappointed.

The sponsor—Mr. Abbasi—shakes her hand also. “My colleague should be joining us shortly,” he says. “Mr. von Albrecht. He’s new to our agency, but he’s the one who uncovered the old clerical error that led to your previous grant application getting misfiled, and brought your research to my attention.” 

“Well, I’ll have to give him my thanks,” her mother says. “That was years ago, I never would have realized anything went amiss.”

Mr. Abbasi chuckles. “I believe he’s a bit of a devotee. He was very well-versed on your academic portfolios. I was thinking of having him be the one to work with you on—ah, here he comes!” 

A man who seems too large for the room they’re in approaches the table, rolling his shoulders in a suit that must have cost a fortune to tailor. 

Without the wings and horns, she would have thought he’d look smaller.

“Hey there.” He grins, holding his hand out for her to shake. “Balthus von Albrecht.” 

She nods, devoting every iota of her willpower to keeping her face even. "Lysithea. I'm the professors' daughter."

He smiles pleasantly, and turns to her parents, looking for all the world as if he's not a demon their daughter has fucked. (She supposes that's probably not a terribly difficult task.)

Balthus is surprisingly good at acting...human. He charms her parents, creates openings for them to talk up their research, and has excellent table manners for a creature that probably doesn’t need to eat. It’s a business dinner, so Lysithea doesn’t participate much in the conversation beyond answering some polite questions clearly intended to make sure she doesn’t feel ignored, but her mind is racing too fast to be bored. How long has he been working for Mr. Abbasi? Is he actually going into work every day and doing this job he supposedly has, or did he just make everyone think he works there? What did he have to do to get her parents the grant? 

He doesn’t pay much attention to her, and...she _knows_ it would be too suspicious if he were acting flirty or familiar with the daughter of the people he’s been talking up to receive funding, but it’s still incredibly annoying. 

The discussion is going well. That’s what actually matters.

As everyone is getting up to leave and once again shaking hands, he hands her parents a business card—then does the same with her. He does it so naturally that for a moment she doesn’t even register that there’s no reason to give her a business card. No one else seems to notice anything off. Maybe it’s just polite. 

In the backseat on the ride home, she pulls it out to examine. “Balthus von Albrecht, Administration.” A company email and a phone number with an extension. She’s not about to jeopardize this deal by contacting him at _work_. 

When she flips the card over, though, something catches the light. She runs her finger over it to feel for indentations, and at her touch, a row of glyphs and a scrawled message appear on the cardstock.

_Glad to see you’re doing well. Sorry we couldn’t talk much tonight—if you ever want to catch up, here’s my personal summoning signature. Either way, take care._

That’s...a big deal. If she were significantly better at demonology, she could use it to bind him, were she so inclined. As it is...he’s given her the ability to summon him whenever she pleases. To talk or...more, maybe. 

Using it would be an absolutely terrible idea. 

She already knows that she’s going to.

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, his human persona then gets assigned to work with her parents, and for years they keep seeing each other in that context and having to pretend he's not getting summoned to Lysithea's bedroom every weekend for supernatural booty calls (at least until it's not a glaring conflict of interest).


End file.
